


all is lost, hope remains (and this war's not over)

by spyderwoman



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Lost in Enemy Territory, Mutual Pining, Romance, Sharing a Bed, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Stranded
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-21
Packaged: 2018-10-06 13:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10335284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spyderwoman/pseuds/spyderwoman
Summary: They are rescued from Scarif by the Empire. When they escape they find themselves in a galaxy in further turmoil, and the Rebellion has seemingly disappeared. Cassian and Jyn only have each other to lean on.





	1. Yesterday I Died

 

 

**_Jyn Erso knew what it felt like to die at peace with herself. With safe warm arms stretched tightly around her and soft breath against her ear. She knew how it felt to push the thin air through her lungs, to force her tired and brittle legs to move, one in front of the other, in pursuit of a cause, a goal, something more than just personal survival. The pride of knowing that their sacrifice would be outweighed by their actions. That Galen ’s sacrifice, her father’s sacrifice -- his life, would mean something. As would Lyra’s._ **

****

**_In the end Jyn knew what it felt like to finally, finally, let the fire inside her, that both ignited and burned, gently go out. It felt like peace. It felt like the force. It felt like nothing at all._ **

****

__._ _

__._ _

__._ _

 

Jyn felt a bone-deep chill run through her whole body, the sensation causing the hair on her arms to raise, and a trembling in her fingers and toes. She was lying on her side on a cold durasteel floor, wearing a short body covering made from a rough textured fabric. It grated against her skin, everything felt too raw. Her brain was trying to push through the mental cobwebs, there was something she should have remembered. __What happened? Where am I?__

__

There was barely any light in the small room, and yet when she tried to open her eyes it still burned too bright. She kept her eyes closed as she tried to sift through her memories. Something wasn’t right. She didn’t know where she was, but she did know that, wherever it was, she wasn’t supposed to be there. She wasn't supposed to be anywhere.

 

Scarif. They’d gone to Scarif.

 

The Death Star. The plans. Her father.

 

__“They’ve no idea we’re coming.”_ _

 

Rogue One. Bodhi, Chirrut, Baze -- __“Little sister…”__

__

Her knuckles clenched tighter and she tried to fold her body in on itself. She wanted to stop the memories, she’d had enough. She wanted to climb back into the broken hatch in her mind, shield herself from all feeling, it was too much, but the hatch couldn’t contain her anymore, she had felt it disintegrate from within her, she’d allowed it to happen, and now she felt exposed and unarmed.

 

Melshi, Pao, Sefla, Tonc, and so many others. She hadn’t learned all their names, she should have learned their names. Her own voice saying, __“We’ll take the next chance, and the next, on and on until we win, or the chances are spent.”__

 

K-2SO, gone like a flash, one minute so scathingly vibrant only to have it all end in silence.

 

The Death Star plans finally in her grasp, the chance to finish it, to do something right.

 

The man in white, the architect of her family’s ruin, three times over. The man who had murdered her mother in flesh, and her father in spirit. Revenge and hatred burning through her blood, thick like the smell of ash and death in the air, and then…

 

“Cassian,” she said the last word out loud, on a whisper.

 

He’d come back for her, dragged his broken body back, to her, again. They’d finished the mission, together.

 

The beach. Warm arms. Soft breath.

__

__“Your father would be proud of you, Jyn.”_ _

 

Why isn’t she dead? She should be dead. They both died on Scarif.

 

“Cassian?” She called out louder this time, and she dared to open one of her eyes. The light didn’t hurt as much, but her surroundings were still blurry, almost as if she’d had a hazy film over her eyes.

 

“There is no one else in this room,” came a clipped feminine voice. “Just you and I, Jyn Erso.”

 

The chill was back in Jyn’s blood instantly. That accent was Imperial, even sluggish and half blind, she could feel the danger in the room. Her hand went to her throat, feeling for her mother’s necklace. It wasn’t there.

 

Jyn looked in the direction where the voice emanated from, she could see the vague shape of a person, hovering at the edge of the room.

 

“Who are you?” She asked, gritting her teeth, feeling some of the fire returning to her. They’d taken her Kyber crystal. “Where is Cassian?”

 

The voice that replied sounded both weary and irreverent, “Me? I’m just a cog in the machine for now. I’m more interested in you Ms. Erso. I hear you’ve just had a pleasant visit to what once was quite a beautiful world. Pity, I had never been myself, but now -- there would really be no point, wouldn’t you agree? At least Jedha was a rather troublesome dust-ball, a nothing world already beyond it’s usefulness. Now Scarif, it was truly beautiful, not to mention one of our own.” The woman sighed, disgust evident in her tone, “You rebels truly have no appreciation or respect for anything.”

 

As she had been speaking, the shape of the woman came closer. Jyn tried to force herself to hold her ground, not play the part of the wounded animal, but instinctively her body inched backwards, toward the wall.

 

The woman leaned down right in front of Jyn’s face, she was wearing an Imperial uniform, though Jyn couldn’t tell division or rank -- though her best guess was Imperial Intelligence, her vision was still too blurry to be sure.

 

From what she could see, the woman was human, she had dark black hair cut severely to just above her shoulders, framing her face were two wide sections of shock white hair. This alone would have been memorable if not for the eyes that seemed to stare straight through her, one so ice blue it was almost white, the other-- blood red.

 

Jyn didn’t avert her eyes under the woman’s penetrating gaze, she stared right back at her, unblinking, and demanded an answer. “Where. Is. Cassian.”

 

The Imperial smiled, her mouth a cruel imitation of a genuine expression, “I don’t know a Cassian. I wonder, could you possibly mean the man we found you entangled with on the sand?” Her voice dropped to a whisper, “Quite a romantic scene our pilots stumbled upon on their way to the emergency hanger.”

 

Jyn just glared at her.

 

“Oh, I see that is who you mean. Well, I’m sorry to say,” she went on, her voice starting to drip with false sympathy, “We only needed one of you. He was already badly twisted and broken, not worth the effort when we already had you. I’m sure you’ll be grateful to hear they put him out of his misery before extracting you. Though the blast would have taken care of it, they took the opportunity to-- remind him of Imperial dignity.”

 

Jyn had gone numb all over. She had no hatch to retreat to. __Cassian was dead. Cassian was alive. Cassian was dead. He’d come back for her.__

__

__Cassian was dead._ _

 

The woman’s eyes were so close to Jyn’s face, an unnatural brightness to them, the eyes of a feral predator about to finish with her prey. “A blaster bolt to the head. It was better than he deserved, filthy rebel scum.”

 

Jyn is moving before she even consciously knows what she’s doing, her head rearing back before smashing into the Imperial woman’s face. She feels pain bloom in her skull, she knows there is blood running down her nose into her mouth, the taste of copper reminds her that she is alive. Cassian is dead.

 

In the end she’s no match for the Imperial woman, her body doesn’t move with the same fluidity as before, her mind moving faster than it was, but still not fast enough. She’s on her back, the woman’s knee digging into her back as she’s pushed into the cold metal floor.

“Yes, he’s dead and you both failed. You all failed. Just more rebel filth on the bottom of an Imperial boot.”

 

Jyn grunts, trying in vain to push herself up, to wriggle free from her hold. There are tears in her eyes, tears of rage, tears of mourning. “Get off of me!”

 

It can’t have been all for nothing. Bodhi. Chirrut. Baze. Melshi. Pao. Sefla. Tonc.

 

Cassian.

 

She feels a wave of anguished helplessness. Why bring her back here? Why not just let her die on that beach? They would have died together at least.

 

They failed?

 

“Did the Death Star--” She began.

 

“Our glorious battle station is in working order,” the woman barks into her ear slamming her roughly into the floor once again. “Fully functional. Fully capable. You Jyn Erso, daughter of traitorous garbage, are going to tell us where the new Rebel base is. Where the fledgling remains of the rebellion crawled to after Yavin IV.”

 

Jyn didn’t understand what she was talking about. What did she mean, after Yavin IV? The Empire knew about temple on Yavin IV? Did they use the planet killer on the base? If so, how would the rebels have escaped to find a new hideout? Did all those good soldiers die, for nothing?

 

She kept her lips closed tightly together. She didn’t know anything useful to the Empire, not really, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of any kind of answer. Her life didn’t matter anymore, let them kill her, like they’d killed __him__ , like they’d killed them all.

 

“I am one with the force,” she whispered to herself, “The force is with me.”

 

.

.

.

 

Cassian stared across his Imperial cell at the Intelligence Officer who had visited him every other day for the three months since he’d come out of a medically induced coma in a bacta tank. Imperial bacta was truly a thing of wonder. There had been scars he’d had for years, since childhood, carved into his skin for longer than his memory could remember their causes. They had all but disappeared, fresh new skin, raw to the touch, replaced the damaged skin. He missed his scars, what was scarred and marked inside him, no longer matched the blank canvas of his body.

 

“They woke her up today,” The auburn haired officer was saying.

 

That got his attention. “Let me see her.”

 

Agent Daala made a soft clicking noise with her mouth. “You know that isn’t how this works. You know the only reason we took her out of stasis. Either we get what we need from you, or Agent Isard gets it from her. We’ve given you plenty of time to come around to our… way of thinking.”

 

Cassian stared impassively through her, though it took everything within him not to react. He knew the file the Alliance had on Ysanne Isard, just like he knew the file on Natasi Daala. He knew what both agents were capable of, and of the two Isard was worse, completely unpredictable, and utterly ruthless. He just needed more time to get them out of this. He hoped that Jyn would keep up her strength, both mentally and physically, and not provoke her captors unnecessarily. He closed his eyes, and breathed out through his nose. He needed her to survive. He just needed a little more time.

 

For months now, Daala had been using the threat of waking Jyn and the subsequent interrogation that would follow, to try and get him to talk. Now they had grown tired of waiting, he could see the desperation in her face. Something had gone very badly for the Empire, he was sure of it. Nothing they would admit to, but their questions about a Rebel safe haven, or auxiliary base were telling. Their lies of complete galactic domination rang hollow. Once he got himself and Jyn out, they’d find out the truth. He’d make sure that Rogue One hadn’t failed, and that he hadn’t failed them.

 

No matter what, he promised himself, he wouldn't fail Jyn.


	2. Tomorrow Will Be Kinder

 

Cassian was already alert and on his feet when the door to his cell slid open and closed just as quickly. A man was standing uncomfortably before him, signs of stress and unease evident on his face. He was tall and slim, his light gray imperial worker uniform wrinkled and scuffed, a cap covering most of his curly dark black hair, he was holding a tray of unappetizing slop out to Cassian.

 

“Imperial's finest cuisine, just for you.”

 

It wasn’t easy to keep track of time sitting in a windowless metal square of a room, but it still felt like Cassian had been waiting for this visitor for too long.

 

“You’re late Vahrik.”

  
The other man huffed but said with a wry smile, “I’m not late, you’re just impatient.”

 

"I can't imagine why." Cassian said dryly as he took the tray from him and placed it on the ground, turning to face the man again, his posture more relaxed than before. “Did you find the auxiliary prison control room?”

 

Vahrik grunted in assent. “It’s not physically guarded, but there are cameras. I can suspend visual surveillance for about ten minutes. It should give me enough time to disrupt the seal, your door would open, but you would have to be ready for it.” He rubbed his hands on side of his uniform trousers.

 

“Did you find out which cell block they are keeping Jyn in?”

 

“I found out where they are keeping your friend, only two blocks over in 7e,” he began hesitantly. “The problem is I don’t have enough time to open both of your cells. I would need more than the ten minutes I have in order to break both the seals without triggering the backup alarms or alerting every single Stormtrooper in the facility to my location.”

 

Cassian leaned back into the wall behind him, trying to think of a new solution, one which got them as far away from their current location as they could get, but without impacting his ally. He didn’t want to compromise Vahrik’s cover, he knew the effort it took to maintain an Imperial identity, alone a midst the enemy.

 

He couldn’t believe his luck in finding an Alliance Intelligence operative delivering his meals. They had only ever seen each other briefly on several occasions back at various Alliance bases. Not enough to trigger his own memory, but it was apparently enough for Vahrik to be able to recognize his face and offer help in an escape attempt. It wasn’t the kind of luck that Cassian was used to, but he wasn’t ready to assign it to something like the Force yet.

 

Vahrik hadn’t been able to give him much new information, it seemed like something big had happened that had made the rebels go to ground, he hadn’t heard from his handler or any of his contact in months. He could confirm that they had brought Jyn and Cassian to the detention facility around five months ago. That was longer than Cassian had figured, and it made him uncomfortable.

 

__Imperials can always be trusted to lie__ , he thought.  

 

On the subject of the Death Star, Vahrik had said it was a forbidden topic among the non-officers, he couldn’t find any official records in the on-site database either. The lack of celebration or boasting made it obvious that something had gone awry for the Empire, but whether that was total destruction or simple sabotage he couldn’t say for sure. Cassian had stopped asking about the Death Star and even the Alliance, he had to focus on the here and now, on getting himself and Jyn to relative safety, he would worry about the rest when he could spare the concentration, or at least that was what he told himself every time his mind started to wander.  

 

Cassian had suggested that Vahrik come with them, and he had refused. He’d felt certain his contacts would reappear, and there was still things he could do from where he was stationed to help the cause. Cassian couldn’t argue with that.

 

“There is another option, though it would likely complicate your escape.”

 

“Let me hear it.”

 

“We could change tactics, and instead of trying to hide our tracks, we would overwhelm security with too many problems to deal with at once. It would take me significantly less time to hit an override on every cell in the five block radius than to pinpoint two cells in different blocks without being noticed. Every cell would open and you’d have to maneuver your way through the chaos to the exit point. It would be pandemonium out there though, and you might be caught before you can even get to your friend.”

 

“It's the better option Vahrik. Let me worry about getting to the exit point with Jyn. This would be better for your cover, it would be harder to pin a motive to rebel sympathies if all the prisoners were released at once.” Cassian nodded, relieved to have another piece of the plan come together.

 

“Alright. I’ll flip the switch tomorrow, be ready. Once you get to street level, I can’t help you any longer. You’ll have to find your own way off world.”

 

“Thank you,” Cassian said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Thank you for your help. If you weren’t here, I don’t know how we would get out here.”

 

“I’m glad to help.” Vahrik said simply. “I’ve got to go. If you get back to the Alliance, tell them-- tell them, I’m still here.”

 

“You can count on it.”

 

.

.

.

 

Cassian didn’t sleep that night, though he probably should have, to keep his strength up, but he was afraid if he let himself sleep that he wouldn’t be ready when the doors opened, before the guards came to quell the chaos. He’d had to stay awake and alert for longer periods of time than this, waiting for the right moment to pull a trigger, waiting for an informant who wouldn’t agree to a specific time out of paranoia -- though not unwarranted most times. He could push himself through this, navigate his way to Jyn, and then lead them out of this place. Once they were out they needed to find, or more likely steal, new clothes and weapons. They’d have to find somewhere to hold up, create a safe house, there they could plan their next move, together. They could find a way off-world.

 

He was suddenly very glad of Vahrik again, thanks to his information, at least Cassian knew what they were walking out into: Nar Shaddaa, the Hutt controlled pleasure moon, and haven for any and all unsavory beings with enough credits to spend.

 

Of all the places to be held by the Empire, Nar Shaddaa was both a blessing and curse. They would be hunted by Imperials, and likely targeted by petty thieves, smugglers, bounty hunters, Hutt Cartel cronies, and all other manner of criminals, but they would also blend in much better than on a purely Imperial controlled world. The Hutts -- or at least a singular Hutt, must have made a deal with the Empire, and allowed them to run a detention and interrogation facility in the complex underground of one of the vast cities. Padding their palaces and casinos with Imperial credits meanwhile--

 

The doors slid open with a loud clang, as if all tension had been released instantly. Cassian jumped to his feet and was out the door as fast as his legs could take him. He followed as best he could the directions that Vahrik had given him to cell block 7e, other prisoners were starting to leave their cells in a hurry, crashing into one another and frantically looking for an escape. The air was filled with the sounds of excited shouting and a loud persistent alarm, warning everyone to return to their cells.

 

The first part of the plan had gone well, and he could only hope it would continue to.

 

When Cassian made it to the right cell block, it was just as crowded with inmates trying to find a way out of the corridor as his own. He started counting open doors until he found the one that was Jyn’s. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest, the adrenaline mixing with a lack of sleep, leaving him a little breathless. They didn’t have much time before Stormtroopers in riot gear would descend on the crowds of prisoners.

 

“JYN!” He shouted, scrambling into her cell. “JYN!”

 

It was empty.

 

She wasn’t there.

 

He swore violently under his breath and turned on his heel, pushing himself back out into the crowd.

 

.

.

.

 

 

Jyn was laying on the floor of her cell, staring up at the ceiling, and trying not to think or feel anything. Thinking and feeling got her in trouble, took her to places in her heart and her mind that she didn’t want to be reminded of. It was a losing battle. 

 

A small farm. The smell of her mother’s hair as she clung to her shoulders, when her legs were too tired to keep walking in the field. The feel of her father’s beard, scratching her small cheek when he kissed her goodnight. __I love you, my Stardust.__  The weight of Saw’s hand on her shoulder, his eyes beaming with pride. Looking into the hopeful faces of soldiers who believed they could change things, their bravery echoing back into her own body, filling her up. Shimmering dark brown eyes staring down at her, crinkling at the edges in a smile he wouldn’t fully commit to. __Welcome home__.

 

Jyn slammed her fist into the floor, the pain jolting her from her reverie. Every pleasant memory she had was tainted with tragedy, her feet the only two left standing in mausoleum of fallen loved ones and friends.

 

She hadn’t seen or spoken with anyone in what felt like weeks. Her meals always showing up while she was asleep. She was asleep a lot. There wasn’t anything else to do. She closed her eyes, hoping that sleep would take her again, even with the dreams it was better than being awake and idle.

 

A loud clang had her sitting upright in an instant. The cell door was open. She wondered if they were coming to interrogate her again. She never had anything to give them, so she suspected they would eventually just give up asking, leave her in peace or have her killed. Maybe today she would find out which.

 

She waited for several breaths, no one came in, the door stayed open. She rose slowly, her legs a little achy from not getting much use or exercise. Still no one came in the door, no officers or troopers. She could hear voices in the hall, so she followed the sound.

 

Prisoners were gathering outside their cells, their excitement something you could feel in the air. Many had started trying to rush to the end of the cell block, yelling out in whoops of triumph. There must have been a malfunction, but she didn’t really care, this was an opportunity, and she would take advantage of it. She ran in the other direction from where the mass of prisoners were gathering, if they got herded back into their cells, it was better for her to not be lumped with the group.

 

Along with a small group of stragglers, Jyn followed the winding corridors, looking for a way out, allowing the smallest hope to bloom in her chest. She didn’t have anything to go back to, but she was a survivor. It was one thing to die in an inescapable trap, it was another to simply lie down and surrender when there was the chance of freedom. She would worry about what to do with that freedom later.

 

As the pathway twisted and turned, she head the alarms ringing, the volume making her face twitch in pain. There were more people at her end now, piling up against a blocked door. She turned around, trying to walk against the current of humans and non-humans alike. Their euphoria at being released turning quickly to panic, bordering on violence.

 

“JYN!”

 

Her whole body froze. Someone was calling her name?

 

“JYN!” The voice called again, even more insistent, sounding like the collapse of Jedha, sounding like the rain of Eadu.

 

It wasn't possible. Her body reacted on instinct, turning towards the sound, while her mind told her it had to be a trap. There were too many bodies, all pushed in together, she couldn’t see who was calling to her. She took a step and then another in that direction, she couldn’t stop herself from hoping, she wanted it to be true.

 

She saw his arm first, or more accurately his elbow, crushing into the neck of a tall human man before yanking him out of his way. He was using the crowd to pull himself forward, all the while screaming her name. She didn’t think she’d ever heard a more pleasant sound.

 

His eyes finally caught her own, the dark brown colour as deep and piercing as she remembered, though it was one of the only things that remained unchanged in him. In their time apart his hair had grown longer, the longest strands just barely touching his shoulders, and his beard was thicker, more filled in. He looked thinner too, the hollows under his eyes darker and slightly more pronounced than before. She could feel her face change, the prick of tears in her eyes as a smile clawed it’s way from somewhere inside her that she’d thought she had buried deep.

 

He was alive.

 

Cassian was __alive.__ He was looking at her and he was _alive._

 

While she had froze, he hadn’t stopped moving, pushing aside anyone unfortunate enough to stumble into his way. He moved with determination and purpose. She started walking towards him, wanting to marvel in the fact that he was there in front of her at all.

 

“Jyn!” He said, finally reaching her.

 

“Cassian, You---”

 

He abruptly grabbed her hand and and dragged her along with him, pulling her back in the opposite direction. “Jyn we have to go, I’m sorry, we don’t have much time. I know how to get us out of here.”

  
She had to run faster than she thought her legs were currently capable of to keep up with him, but she ran and tightened her grip on his hand, the tether that bound them together, she let him lead them away.

 

They passed several groups of prisoners, winding down hallways that all looked the same, rows upon rows of identical cells. Cassian stopped at one of the cells and pulled her inside with him. He bent down beside the wall where he removed a small panel to reveal a key pad. He punched in a code that caused the back wall of the cell to collapse in on itself, there was a pathway beyond it.

 

He turned to look at her, flashing a quick blinding smile, “Our way out.”

 

She didn’t trust herself to speak yet so she just nodded and followed him inside.

 

She watched him as he accessed a second key pad and the wall readjusted itself, concealing them inside.

 

They weren’t standing far apart, the small pathway wouldn’t allow for much space between them. She looked up at him to find his gaze sweeping across her, like he was doing an inventory of her face, her arms, legs. He must have been satisfied with what he saw because his expression softened and he asked quietly, “Are you alright?”

 

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. She was choked by her elation at finding him alive and her fury at being lied to and manipulated by the Empire. If he was alive, what about the rest of the garbage they had told her. Was any of it real? How long had they been in captivity? His hair was so long... it looked soft to the touch. She kept her hand at her side.

 

“They-- They told me you were dead.” She managed to say, “That they had found us together, on the beach, but you-- you were so far gone. They said-- they put you out of your misery… that… that they killed you but took me. I---”

 

She had run out of words. She stood there staring up at him, unable to keep going. 

 

His arms reached out in an instant to wrap around her, he pulled her close into him, the heat of his body warming her, he leaned his back against the wall to support them both. She could feel her body trembling, shaking with adrenaline and an emotion that she couldn’t put a name to. Her brain filed it away as relief, or something like it. She grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, made of the same rough white fabric as her own prison clothes, and pulled herself closer to him, burying her face in his neck, waiting for her body to find it’s stability again, they had held each other up on Scarif against worse tremors.

 

She could feel him whispering into her hair, but could only capture snippets of what he was saying.

 

“I’m here Jyn. It’s okay, don’t-- We’re alive and-- I’m here. I’ll always-- Jyn.”

 

She took in a deep breath, and then another. Calm finding its way to her body at last, she then had the strength to pull away.

 

“Where are we?”

 

“An Imperial installation on Nar Shaddaa.”

 

She considered that for a moment, the Smuggler’s Moon could be a dangerous place, but it was also a place people went to lose themselves. Two people could hide in a place like that. It could have been a lot worse.

 

He was alive.

 

“We need to find some new clothes, and some weapons.” She said.

 

“And a place to hide out, to plan.” He agreed.

 

“I might have some contacts under Kestrel Dawn that frequent several Hutt Casinos, it could be worth looking into.”

 

“It’s a start.” He was staring a her hand. She reached out and took his hand in hers. His fingers flexed gently before relaxing into her hold.

 

“Okay. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Thank you all for leaving comments and kudos. I appreciate every single one.


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